In this hell of flat shadows, in this old carnival, just stay rebel
by DreamAsyouWilLiveForever
Summary: Don't lose your grip, don't let it go, you will never get it back, if you slip down, you're lost. It's like apnea, you grope until you resurface, and there's no oxigen in there, just a wall, a wall you can not disassemble. Chantal Crysler, a cynical and cold soldier who will be forced by Snow to help in the Quarter Quell.. But who is she more dangerous for? (Finnick/OC)
1. It will be different, this year

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or any character in it. It's a Suzanne Collins's production.**

** will be different, this year**

Don't lose your grip, don't let it go, you will never get it back, if you slip down, you're lost. It's like apnea, you grope until you resurface, and there's no oxigen in there, just a wall, a wall you can not disassemble. If I open my eyes the sun beams look blurred, dim and shaky. Only confused movements, nothing recognizible, nothing at all, an indistinct chatter, it might come straight from hell, who knows? I'm not that far from there by now. Not anymore. I'out of the limbo, my body feels the contact with world, I don't yet. I wash I had forgotten everything, but I haven't, my life imposes itself firm in front of my eyes, images, sounds. Nothing worth to be held. The fog I have in front of me fades piecewise, and reveals glimpses of light iluminating something light blue. As the water of that arena, the only thing which truly seemed alive, different from all those black puddles that gently flew around it. That turned out to be a gold blade too, which smashed a lot of lives, but who am I to judge? I'm not light blue nor limpid, just a gold blade, drenched in red by now. My body got numb, senses but doesn' feel, and it starts to tremble from my legs up to the shoulders. I'd like to rub my eyes and refresh my face, to check that there's the usual green countryside outside my window, weaken by coldness and snow. There are no windows here, I guess, certainly there's no trace of snow, just the coldness persists. A weird coldness, intense and different, I just feel it inside, nested in my stomach, spreading like a river in flood, but it can not really shake my from my numbness; and maybe it's good, torpor atrophies my mental activity, keeps me from thinking, reminding of that blade on the wall, merciless, spotted not only with arena's blood, but with life's blood, a live that doesn't belong to me, that I don't know, still it wrappes me and grinds me. Thank you President Snow, for making me wish everyday to have died in that hell, for making me frenetically look for a shelter I'll never find, for making me the person I've always been afraid of my entire life, a killer outside the arena.

" Welcome back, milady" someone's trying to catch my attention, these are the first words that are really clear to me. I don't answer, as usual, I never do, it's pointless, I comand, not answer. Still no one knows it out there.

" Where the hell am I?" my tone soon gest overbearing, I take old habits back, I put the old mask on, it's narrow, it stings my face, but you can't see it from outside.

" safe, milady. Almost healed" healed from what? Certainly not from this nightmare. I'm still entangled in the net. The light blue I saw before is just the colour of this huge room that'd want to be a infirmary; there's just a man standing next to me, and he seems a little worried though.

" you passed out, milady. But you're fine now, we gave you.. " I interrupt him before he starts, he could not image how I do not care about it.

" Shut up, damn it" I try to massage my head, but I'm blocked, chains are over my arms, and this guy takes them off in a rush, he has to respect me and fear me so much, not that it's new.

" President wants to see you, milady. He asked for you as soon as you had recovered, but if you don't.." my hand interrupts him again, I hear even too much jabbering. Everyone talks here, without saying anything.

Without listening to other stupid warnings, I make my way to the red door, where everything starts and everything ends, always for the worse I have to say. There will be a reason why the door is painted in a scarlett red. Silence is to be cut, even the blowing of the wind makes a creepy, deep echo. As I knock, the doors submits and leaves ajar.

" Chantal Crysler, what an honour. Just in time from the dead." He obviously knows what happened, I don't. giving him an advantage is not smart.

" I heard you were looking for me, Mr President, so I made one more effort " his face hard line turns into a smirk.

" efficient as always " he points at the chair, red too, but I narrowly ignore him.

" Doctor said you're ok, no permanent damages, just supeficial cuts "

" that's what the Doctor said, unconditionally" I let him intend I don't believe him or anyone in Capitol City. I do have cuts, not on the skin though.

" anyway, you're suspended from your service" he know it might please me, that's why I start to worry. He studies me, but he goes on, not noticing anything particular.

" Hunger Games are practically here, we need Victors here in Capitol, you know.. to mentor " oh no, he won't stuck me with this, too. No way. I won't teach kids how to be killed without suffering too much.

" I'm not inclined to comply your request, Mr President"

" it wasn't a request, Chantal"

" I'm sure you will find a lot of volunteers in the Victor's parade, tomorrow" the same old tycoon's parade showing their talents and their garish things.

" oh it will be different this year, Victors will be helpful for other aims" he sleeks his beard sneering, with a weird gaze.

" you stimulated my curiosity, I admit that. You don't really want me to mentor, do you?"

" yes, but in an untraditional kind of way" he pauses to tip his finger on his desk.

" you see, Chantal, I have some great news for this year, and I need some, how to say that.. pillars. And you are in my list."

" may I have some details or are you just going to leave me wallowing in ignorance?"

" I'm fed up with these peacocks, they think they are invincible. Plutarch had already given me a good idea, but I took a step further" I heard something about that, but I just thought it was an unhealthy idea. What the hell are they up to this time? Not that I care, but I don't like being involved in Capitol's business.

" What would that be?"

" the Arena will participate more, Tributes won't be alone this time "

" it keeps not making sense to me" and maybe it's for the best.

" tomorrow you'll have everything figured out, don't worry" satisfaction on his face is tangible, that hateful expression doesn't stand for anything good, who knows why I sense that this is going to end up in a bloodbath, one way or another.

I give him a questioning look, since he does nothing but telling me nonsense things, ambiguous, undetailed. Everything must be done as he says, or not done at all. Everything has to pander his unbearable theatricality.

" Tomorrow you'll be one of my guards at the conference" do I have to suppose he's going to need a guard? What he's about to say? Other than the Hunger Games are sadly upcoming again.

**_A.C. this is a new one, my first one, hope you enjoy and review_**


	2. Kill or be killed

**2 – Kill or be killed**

**_The house was a disaster, it seemed the victim of a hurricane, or a tornado, or whatever natural disaster. The mirror in the entrance was in pieces along with the shards of the vase and the pansies, whose water had swamped my mom's favourite carpet. I raise my eyes and see my sister Maya picking up her doll and puts it next to my father's photo, while Anita, the youngest sister just stays there with an empty look and swollen eyes; my mother despairs on the floor near the heater, sobbing as she often does, she doesn't pay attention to anything around her, not even to me, just got it the room. I try to get close to her, avoiding smashed objects as much as I can._**

**_"What happened?" my question dissipates in the room, as if it was a simple wind blow. I bend next to her and I slightly shake her._**

**_"Mom what happened?" I repeat with a firm tone._**

**_"Your dad's been called, he left" she tells me between sobs._**

**_"He's never coming back" she adds, before falling to sleep._**

**_"He's never coming back"…_**

**_"He's never coming back"…_**

The words come in nothing in my head , they disappear as dust at the sound of a twinkle that makes my eyes open widely.

I snap to attention as usual, but my sprint is immediately stopped by a blonde,slim, little girl, with a blue dress and a tray in hand. An Avox girl brought me breakfast, she should be named Emily or Emmy or something like that, she's the most tolerable person I've met until now anyway. she looks uneasy after wincing, too, so I give her a smile and encourage her to lay the tray.

"Thank you.. Emmy" I attempt. Her sketched smile makes me think that's not her name. My usual luck.

"I went wrong again, didn't I? I yawn and sets myself better on the bed, ready to eat. I point at the tray, maybe she's hungry too, but she refutes me shacking her head.

"Come on it's not a crime, I will never eat all this stuff on my own" she keeps her eyes down, without answering. She just does that to keep her place, but these formal things don't work on me, so I softly grab her by the arm and get her closer to food.

"Take it as a charity act and and help me" she gives up and sits down as I finish talking. It's disconerning that she never gazes at me.

"Have people already got restless out there?" today's the day of Snow's pre-Games famous speech and I have no clue of why they all rush here to listen, even the ones who are not threatened yet. The girl nods and tidies things on the tray.

She makes me understand someone was looking for me.

"Do you know him?" I ask, she shakes her head and lower her face again. Maybe it's the case to get dressed.

Starting from the corridor there are breathless people running here and there to make sure everything's ready for today, as if it was New year's Eve night. Groups of television troupes have formed in the lobby, setting down their equipments, watchful as vultures. Someone brave rushes towards me.

"What will this year's novelty be?" I walk away without even looking at him, I'm not really in the mood. But young reporter doesn't give up and keeps following me.

"What does President Snow have in mind?" he insists. I suddenly stop walking and I turn around, overflowing with rage, and I take a deep breath before throwing at him part of my anger.

"Doesn't sound as a good idea" someone intervenes, this guy does not know that he's just been saved in corner.

As I turn around a peacekeeper shows in front of my eyes, with a less sterne face than usual, getting in the way between me and the reporter, who seems discouraged now, and thinks to take distance right away. It's for his own health.

"Who are you?" I reserve to him too my special tone, they make no difference to me, they're both troublemakers.

"Harmon Schill, you should remember me, Chantal" I scan him better in his entirety, grizzled hair, marked features, tall on average, cerulean eyes.. no it all tells me nothing.

"Should I?"

"Yes, but ok. That was me the one who was looking for you anyway" and I had already braced myself for a face-to-face with Snow.

"If you have to update me about today's ceremony, don't bother yourself, I'm already aware of everything"

"No, it's not quite like that, and I'm pretty sure you're not aware at all. Can we go outside in the garden?" I doubtfully nod and let him lead the way.

He starts talking ,absently looking around and strolling on the pavement with the arms behind his back.

" You did recover, I see"

"Judging from how you say that, you seem interested" it's time for me to prob him, why on earth should I remember this guy?

"Sure I am, I've been following the whole rehab process Chantal" my name comes out naturally from his mouth. It means he must know me.

"My name, my health, appearently there's really a reason why I should rememeber you"

"Well I was.. your boss, more than once" I had erased this part, I don't consider any of them anymore.

"Are you implicitly suggesting me to call you 'sir'?" he chuckles, getting near to the fountain in the middle of the garden

"You haven't changed at all, you know? The scornful tone, that hint of rebellion always ready to explode" he seems almost.. proud?

"A blow on the head doesn't' affect DNA"

"It wouldn't be easy with yours"

"Were you looking for me for something in particular or you just wanted to tell me I have a bad attitude?"

"I've seen you talking with that Avox girl more than once" he changes the subject in a hearbeat, why such a rapid change?

Given that he's headed to the thick copse, I suppose he's just taking time to say something else.

"Yes, that girl is so sweet and kind" Schill chuckles and throws a pebble away. His attitude is really starting to get on my nerves.

"So kind that they will employ her for surgical experiments." This keeps me from taking a step more, and instantly something that tastes like protection istinct rises from my throat.

"No, no way, not in this lifetime"

"She could be an interesting subject" I bitterly hate this society, so keen on science and technology to ignore human needs and violate human rights. They have absolutely no clue of what dignity really means. They are convinced that it's sufficient to have a stupid machine to work with and a guinea pig to torture, no matter what or who it is. Sooner or later they will learn what a real progress is.

"They are not going to touch her, I won't let them. Like she hasn't suffered enough already." Right now I could pull a sword out a make a massacre, that won't be very innovating, but amen, so it has to be. They're really pushing people pass the breaking point.

"it's for her own health, Chantal. Her verbal faculty can be rescued." This stops me for the second time, I've never heard about this chance. I've always been told that their condition was permanent, incurable, so it's pretty normal that my certanties are tottering now, even though I've always had trust issues, so this unknown peacekeeper with new faint hopes doesn't convince me so much.

"How"

"I don't know, I'm not the scientist"

" I don't belive you,sorry" right what I was saying before, trust issues. Altought I have to admit that I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one. Peacekeepers are not famous for their reliability or their pecualirity to tell the truth. They fight and manipulate people to get what they want, and something tells me that this one guy is trying to obtain something from me.

Anyway I won't let that poor girl be tortured for a cause that could possibly have a terrible ending.

He keeps his eyes on the ground, probably in seek for the right words to say, I've the impression that he considers me as a bomb ready to explode, that's why he's so careful.

"Chantal, things cannot be changed here, we're in Capitol City, the top of an unshakeable pyramid." The resignation leaking out his voice is so atypical for a soldier.

"it's a pyramid standing on a heap of secrets and subterfuges, it's shaky" He shakes his head slowly and approached me, lowering his voice.

" Better not to spill that around, don't you think? "

"there's no need for me to do it, people know that, that's why it's shaky" Sighs loudly and looks around warily , his eyes wandering frantically over my shoulder .

" I'm not here to feed hazardous fires , just wanted to give you a warning "

"I'm all ears ," I say contemptuous, if he really knew me, he would know that trust is not really my thing. But evidently he's just another climber who wants something from me .

"When Snow will come out with his speech later, lots of things will change and you'll be forced to make important choices ," he says in a firm tone , as if it was an imposition.

But something in his worried gaze convinces me to believe that there is a grain of truth; among other things , knowing Snow , he'll have in mind to upset again the whole Panem .

Usually the hard part is knowing how. All his ways do not lead to nothing but suffering, essentially that's the very thing we must get ready for.

"Snow has in mind to pull out far more than a rabbit of the hat , right?" I ask him, aware that we are going to be all screwed up again.

"I am afraid so , and it will not be anything as soft and harmless " of this I am sure. On the other hand is the Quarter Quell, an opportunity to inflict citizens some punishment for mistakes made centuries earlier, errors of which today there is no trace , only open wounds.

" I don't care "I finally decide . Too many times I have been involved by Snow and his bloody initiatives, and I recollect demonstrations from the past that is not good to get involved. I could not change anything on my own, I would not be of any weight, then I realized, after being almost ended up in the other world , that sometimes it's wiser to hold back, less punchy, perhaps, but wiser.

"Decide what you want, but when the time comes , and you'll realize that, you'll need a clarification , you know where to find me " I almost happen to smile , who the hell is he to come out of nowhere and tell me how I should behave, plan my life and pretend to know everything about me?

"First, I wouldn't know where to find you , and frankly I will not pine for this, and second , the last time I checked out I was in complete control over my life , so back off "I end up with an icy tone , going back toward the ' entry at a brisk pace.

"It's a favor I'm doing to your father, Chantal ," his voice arriving behind my shoulders imposes my feet to stop,again. I feel the anger mounting and and the air hardly reaching my the trachea . With the same lightning speed i shove him against the wall, pushing my arm across his throat. He does not seem surprised that much and doesn't even attempt to fight back, leaving the arms helpless at his sides .

"What the hell do you know about my father? ! You are all so sadly obvious, every time you want to make me get in line, you bring him up, well you know what ? You can all go to hell and leave me alone " as I leave him, headed towards the palace I hear him coughing.

After completing the therapy I'm going back to my rooms muttering , fed up with everything that surrounds me , with a natural revulsion towards anyone.

I slam the door after entering , startling the girl inside, Emmy , I suppose, or something like that, oh in the end what difference does that make ? She looks at me curiously , but if I stare her she immediately lowers her eyes, loyal to obedience and respect as always. I feel a surge of tenderness towards her, which I hasten to choke , it is pointless to get attached to someone, it never ends well.

What is certain is that I will not let these crazies to use her as a guinea pig , because I convince myself that this is humanity, not attachment .

"Sorry, Emy , I am a bit ' stressed"' she doesn't respond and continues to tidy things, never doing anything different . Still Shaken by anger I take the objects off from her hand and throw them to the ground.

" Stop working , go take a bath or at least some time for yourself , I do not need anything," she looks at me in disbelief standing still, with dark curly hair falling on her face.

She wides her arms up as if she could not explain my gesture , I'm pretty sure that no one has ever talked to her like this. It's not me pretendig to be the good one, rather the others here who are heartless automatons.

"Seriously , go ahead ," I say as gently , it is not her fault if my day started badly and will get ,let me say , even worse.

She nods imperceptibly and rushes away, if I were her I would have done the same probably . I do not have time to lie down on the bed that she gets back carrying something, I spoke too soon . Without ever raising her eyes she settles the uniform near me, the one I'll wear soon for the " parade " ,usual black , black as the inconsistency , the hardness and the abyss . I sigh in resignationand throw it back on the bed, after giving her a gaze, Emy runs immediately to make it right , and this disparaging attitude towards herself is really getting on my nerves. We are the person with whom we will have to go spend our whole life with, beyond everything else, and we must take care of ourselves , and she doesn't. I wonder how, after what everything thath happened, she can still be so composed and controlled , and not crazy as I heard it happened to some girls around here. This makes me even angrier, because soon I'll have to give my support to the author of all this, when he would actually deserve just a stab in the stomach.

As soon as I get out of the shower she is still there , waiting patiently, I try not to say anything , it wouldn't be fair give vent to everything with her, so I dress up in complete autonomy and as quickly as possible in order to get out of here and take it out on the first victim. I stop for a moment at the door to reflect, to throw out the air in excess ,gazing at Emy , who just smiles at me and gives me a pat on the arm , as she wanted to encourage me; something strange comes over me until the throat , maybe it's my heat , it's been so long that I do not even remember what a little ' warmth is. This girl acts like a friend would do , she gives you her support if you need to do something you absolutely do not want to do.I smile back and I rush my way out.

Under the notorious presidential balcony the crowd is already gathered , restless , covered with a fake enthusiasm , as well as video cameras , all eagerly waiting for some more details or some unexpected confessions . I 'm designated two windows away, I do not see the usefullness of this, if someone decided to shoot, Snow would be dead before I realized I'd have to go down . Surely this guy would do a favor to the all world by killing this slimy snake . The audience will be deployed between the program and the square in front of Caesar Flickerman , that annoying clown who does nothing but praising Snow in public and laughing at any sentence that is said , aware of the fact that you only get on that stage once, you don't come back a second time. Now I'm imagining him with dyed hair, and who knows what color he has chooses, while he explains the importance of the Quarter Quell and showing all the previous games . Pathetic and out of place.

After nearly a quiet hour, in which you can only hear the murmuring of the impatient people, Snow finally decides to make his entrance , strictly accompanied by two apes and a wave of bought applause.

"Citizens of Panem , this is a special year for everyone, we're about to start the Quarter Quell" I wonder if he speaks spontaneously or if someone is also committed to write these pearls of wisdom .

" And you have to remember the fallen ones, even if they were opponents" why do I assume that the way you will remember won't please anyone?

"Everyone must participate in the celebration . We live in a world where skills, commitment and good will count, all employed in order to make us better and to improve our lives , " I roll my eyes, why the hell do politicians always have to turn things around ? It is not that the blow will be sweeter if it's surrounded it by crap .

"You've had to learn to survive ever since you were little , not only for yourselves, but for the people who are around us , the people we love " of course,that's why the Hunger Games were established, right?

" And this year we will honor those who until now have lost loved ones and those who lost them during those dark days " where does he want to end up ? I predict a bang with all the trimmings .

" The tributes will be reaped among the pool of living Victors, among the different districts . " Murmurs burst onto the scene , people feel almost safe, but there is nothing to be sure of , Snow has not only found a way to take a weight off , but he will also ensure that citizens remain under his tyrannical control.

" But there will be a second reaping , after the tributes, to determine who, among the people close to them , will be interned in the arena and hidden, duly kept an eye on , waiting for the tribute to set them free. " as he finishes , his face is not shaken by any emotion , despite the protests of the people and the veiled astonished faces , including mine . It's a lousy bastard , there's nothing to do, the only solution lies in the barrel of a gun.

He retires with a grin , leaving the crowd throbbing, incredulous and doubtful, how bad will this be for the districts ? Maybe not so much, but is the idea that scares the hell out , because it is part of a larger project , for sure. Casting a look at the people in the streets, caught by confusion , slowly trying to scatter themselves to their houses. I hear a voice from the transmitter telling me to go straight to the hall. The president is waiting for me, auster,and I dare say almost satisfied with his rot . I grimaced with my lips and stare at him in the face.

"I didn't expect that one "

"I know, Plutarch had a stroke of genius , this time " at the beginning we all wonderedi if Plutarch Heavensbee was as able as Seneca, but now he turned out to be even worse.

"I'd ask the people out there" he mutters something and makes a step closer .

" Just because I know their answers I listened to him " he's a portrait of pure malice , without a chance of redemption.

"It was you who said that you did not want hints of rebellion , does this seems the best way ? "

"Fear immobilizes , Chantal "

" The Hunger Games are valid for twenty, thirty, even forty people , not thousands, you do some math "

" When I'll want your opinion , I'll require it "

" You know what, President? it will be too late " he moves his mouth into a hard , angry and numb sneer.

"Your predictions are not useful at the moment, because you have other things to deal with "

" Always at the service of Capitol City"I throw out ironically, he seems to catch the irony , because his grin becomes more pronounced .

" You will go to the arena, guarding one of those shelters, waiting for the tributes to come. You will be the obstacle to be overcomed "he ends with satisfaction. For a second I don't hear noises around me, only the rattle of swords . Here we go again . Kill or be killed.

_A.C: Thank you very much indeed to the followers for the support, and thanks too to those who reviewed as "guest" for the not- constructive-at-all criticism;)_


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